Writing on the Marble Wall
by Rosebud5
Summary: Modern Fic. Jehan works at a flower shop where he also gives the occasional tattoo in the back. Enjolras is the last person anyone would expect to come and ask for one, but it's this "marble statue" who has a message he needs tattooed as a permanent reminder to himself. And it has nothing to do with France.


Hey guys! So I know I should be working on "A Revolutionary Heart" but my cousin and I got this idea and it just DEMANDED to be written. So! Enjoy this little one shot while you wait on the next update. It's a Modern fic, and centers around everyone's favorites...Jehan and Enjolras!

Disclaimer: We are not Hugo. And by we I mean my cousin and I. For she co-wrote this. For she is awesome.

~Rosey

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**Writing on the Marble Wall**

Jehan Prouvaire looked out the window of the flower shop with a small, happy sigh. He pushed a stray lock of hair back into his braid and wrinkled his freckled nose as he turned back to the bouquet of flowers in front of him and hummed a made-up tune under his breath, placing a daisy in amongst the pansies for a pleasant accent.

Suddenly, the door of the shop opened, sending the bell above it tinkling merrily. Jehan turned around with a wide smile, ready to greet whichever customer was entering. His smile only grew bigger when he saw his friend Julien Enjolras walking into the shop, two large Sonic cups in his hands and a school bag slung over his shoulder. The blond blew some wild hair out of his face and offered the poet a half-smile. "Bonjour, Jehan."

"Hello, sunshine!" Jehan grinned warmly. "How are you?"

"I'm alright," Enjolras smiled back. He then handed Jehan one of the cups and a straw. "I got this for you."

"Why, thank you, mon ami!" Jehan beamed, taking the cup. "And what might I be able to give you in return? Some flowers, or a tattoo perhaps?" He said the last part with a little laugh. The poet gave tattoos in the back of the flower shop, and about four of the amis had gotten some meaningful or completely pointless design or saying inked on some part of their bodies by Jehan; but everyone knew that Enjolras would be the last one to ask for a tattoo.

So you can imagine Jehan's surprise when Enjolras said in a definite tone "Well actually, that's what I came to talk to you about."

Jehan fell silent for a moment, his jaw agape, before speaking hesitantly. "About… Flowers?"

"No," Enjolras shook his head. "About a tattoo."

Jehan just looked at him skeptically, arching an eyebrow. "A tattoo…for who?"

"For me," the blond replied, dryly adding, "There's nobody else here."

"Well yes I know," the poet nodded. "But I just mean…." He couldn't contain his shock. "For _you? _Who's idea was this?"

"Mine," Enjolras replied simply.

Jehan blinked. "I think you've been hanging around Grantaire too much. Did he touch that drink there in your hands? Because-"

"No, I promise, I'm completely sober," Enjolras rolled his eyes. "This is just water."

The poet looked at him skeptically for a minute before leaning over and taking a sip out of his friend's cup. He pulled away, satisfied. "Yep. That's just water." He was quiet for another moment before speaking again. "You do know that you don't have to get a tattoo to let people know how much you care about France, right? I mean, this will be permanent…"

"Jehan, this has nothing to do with France," Enjolras interrupted him, causing the poet to once more make sure his drink wasn't spiked.

"You're telling me that you're going to get something permanently inked into your skin, and it has nothing to do with Patria?" Jehan raised his eyebrows higher.

Enjolras reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper, silently handing it to Jehan. Three simple words were written in elegant handwriting. _You are loved._

Jehan was quiet for a moment before reaching over and turning the "Open" sign on the door to "Closed" before he took Enjolras's hand, leading him to the small tattoo studio set up in the back. "Alright, sunshine. Let's go."

The poet gestured for Enjolras to sit in the padded chair he always had his clients use before pulling up his own wooden stool and grabbing his large bag of supplies. "Now, where do you want it, Julien?"

"My wrist," Enjolras replied, pushing the sleeve of his jacket up to his elbow. "The underside."

"Alright," Jehan nodded with a gentle smile. "Let me clean it off first and then we'll get to work, alright?"

Enjolras nodded, stretching his arm out to Jehan's reach. The poet picked up a cotton swab and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, gingerly cleaning off the area he was going to work with. Next, he traced the words onto a sheet of transfer paper and laid it on his wrist. After the thin material was gently pulled away, the words were neatly laid out across the underside of Enjolras's pale wrist.

"This is what it will look like when I'm finished. Do you like it?" Jehan asked sweetly.

Enjolras just nodded with a little smile on his face.

"Alright," the poet said gently. "Now you know this going to hurt, right?"

"I know," Enjolras laughed a little. "Trust me. I can take it."

"Alright," Jehan nodded, reaching for his tattoo pen and making sure the batteries were in place. Gingerly, he turned the small machine on and lowered it to his friend's wrist.

Enjolras winced at first, but soon got used to it, though occasionally his face would tighten a little in pain. Jehan worked silently for a moment before he spoke again. "So, whose handwriting is this? It's not yours."

"It's Combeferre's," Enjolras replied quietly, watching as Jehan worked.

"I see," the poet smiled. "And does he know you're getting this tattoo?"

"Of course he does," Enjolras chuckled a little. "But that's not saying much. He's practically my big brother. He knows everything."

"So what brought this on, Enj?" Jehan asked calmly. "Was it just a spur of the moment thing, or…?"

"Um, no," Enjolras shook his head. "I've been thinking about it for a while. It's just… Kind of a reminder."

"A reminder?" Jehan blinked, looking up and pausing for a moment. "Do we not tell you we love you enough?" His eyes shone with worry and guilt.

Enjolras smiled a little and shook his head. "It's just… When you live your entire life for a people that you're not sure will come when you need them the most… It's nice to know your life is worth something."

Jehan bit his lip, and then gently squeezed Enjolras's other hand. "Your life will always be worth something, sunshine." And with that, he went back to work silently.

About thirty minutes later, Jehan set aside the pen and sweetly kissed the area right above the tattoo, smiling at his friend. "There you go, mon ami."

Enjolras gave him a rare grin, and nodded. "Thank you, Jehan."

"Wait." The poet reached over for Enjolras's other wrist, pushing back the sleeve and starting to clean the area.

"Jehan, what are you doing?" the blond yelped a little, pulling back.

"Just trust me," Jehan said in a voice that demanded to be listened to. Enjolras took a deep breath and then nodded, still looking highly skeptical but trusting Jehan. Because honestly. Who wouldn't?

After the area was cleaned, Jehan grinned up at him. "Look away. I want it to be a surprise."

Enjolras winced. "Jehan, I don't think-"

"Julien Enjolras you better trust me," Jean crossed his arms.

The revolutionary bit his lip but after a few moments groaned a little in defeat, looking away and letting Jehan lower the pen to his skin once again, this time on his opposite wrist's underside. After about fifteen minutes, the poet pulled away. "Alright. You can look now."

Enjolras nervously glanced down at his wrist, but moments after a smile broke across his face. There, in Jehan's sprawling handwriting, was a simple word. _Truly. _

_ You are loved. Truly. _

"I think you need the reassurance," Jehan smiled, kissing his other wrist above the new tattoo. "It breaks my heart, but I really think you do."

The blond sniffled a little, and then looked up with a smile. "I do. Thank you." He was quiet for a minute before speaking again. "Jehan? If it's all right with you, can we not tell the other Amis? I bought some wrist cuffs just for this…"

Jehan blinked. "Well of course. It can be our secret. But why would you get them if you don't want others to see?"

Enjolras chuckled a little. "Their perfect marble statue can't have graffiti on it. It can't have anything wrong with it."

Jehan looked indignant. "Wrong? What's wrong with my tattoos?"

"No, nothing," Enjolras shook his head quickly. "I just mean… They'll ask questions, you know? And I don't want to answer them."

Jehan smiled a little, shaking his head. "You know, I've always been a fan of graffiti. It takes something that might not have been noticed before and puts a message on it. Just like what you want to do."

Enjolras paused before speaking again. "Thank you, Jehan."

The poet just grinned and planted a kiss on his friend's nose. "You're welcome, sunshine."

And as Enjolras got up to leave, Jehan called one last thing after him. "You _are _loved, you know?"

The blond smiled. "Yeah. I know."

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Thank you so much for reading it! We hope you liked it! If you did, please review!

~Rosey and Brianna


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